


Conflict Mismanagement

by StraightOuttaHimring



Series: Lessons in Family and Other Unstoppable Forces [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Kidnap Dads, Rated PG for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 14:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18181643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StraightOuttaHimring/pseuds/StraightOuttaHimring
Summary: Conflict at Elros’ school helps bring him and Maglor closer together.





	Conflict Mismanagement

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not really in love with this, but it’s written so I might as well post it. I mostly wanted to show Maglor coming into his own as a parent. The next story will be better, and include Fingon, table-forts, and Maglor’s terrible cooking. 
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! 
> 
> Standard disclaimer: I don’t own the Silmarillion, Lord of the Rings, or any related characters, they were created by J.R.R.Tolkien, obviously.

Maglor circled the parking lot, agitation building with each lap. Whoever thought three visitor spots for a school this size would suffice had their head so far up their – ‘ _oh_ , _there’s_ _a_ _spot_!’

 

Tired fingers carefully tucked wayward strands of hair back into their bun and tried to straighten his worn, patched jacket. Hysteric laughter threatened to bubble forth. ‘ _Oh_ _Eru_ , _he_ _was_ _22_ _years_ _old_ _and_ _getting_ _called_ _to_ _the_ _principal’s_ _office_!’

 

Hunching his shoulders in an effort to look as inconspicuous as possible, Maglor settled down nervously on one of the benches outside the office. Despite his efforts, he felt four pairs of eyes on him as two other sets of parents glared from across the hallway. 

 

Maglor could swear he could hear the other parents’ thoughts pounding against him like fists. Then again, maybe they were just his thoughts. Maybe it was a bit of both.

 

“ _He_ _is_ _so_ _young_! _How_ _can_ _he_ _provide_ _for_ _two_ _children_?” 

 

“ _What_ _do_ _you_ _expect_ _when_ _that’s_ _the_ _kind_ _of_ _role_ _model_ _those_ _boys_ _have_ _at_ _home_.”

 

“ _What_ _the_ _hell_ _am_ _I_ _doing_? _This_ _wouldn’t_ _happen_ if _I_ _was_ _a_ _better_ _parent_ – _scratch_ _that_ , _any_ _kind_ _of_ _parent_.” 

 

He wrapped his arms around himself, wondering not for the first time what the hell Earendil and Elwing had been thinking when they named him the twins’ guardian. Lost as he was in self-deprecating thoughts, Maglor hardly heard the door open next to him.

 

His head jerked up with start when the head master cleared his throat. The other parents had already filed into the office, immediately dashing to the sides of their slightly bruised and battered children.

 

Maglor’s eyes settled on his own disheveled charge. Elros held a comically-large disposable icepack to the bruise forming over his eye and sported a few small scratches, but beyond that he looked much less worse-for-wear than the other two. His small figure radiated anger; everything from his jutting lower lip, knit brows, and averted eyes clearly said screamed ‘don’t approach me.’ 

 

“Mr. Feanorian,” the head master started, “we have spoken before about your…ward’srecent behavior, but this new development is inexcusable.” 

 

“What seems to be the problem, sir?” stuttered Maglor, feeling, if possible, even younger than he did in the hallway. 

 

“The problem is that Elros has progressed from verbally lashing out at those around him to attacking his fellow students,” accused the older elf, motioning to the two children busy cowering against their parents. “I don’t know what kind of disciplinary style you believe in at home, but something has to be done to stop this behavior.” 

 

“We were just talking to him when he started hitting us,” supplied one of the elflings. His companion swatted at him and the two fell silent. 

 

Maglor slowly knelt in front of Elros. “Is this what happened, little one?” he asked softly. Elros nodded but refused to make eye contact. “What were you guys talking about?” 

 

Elros wove and unwove his fingers together, still refusing to meet Maglor’s concerned gaze. “Nothing much,” he replied sullenly. 

 

“Well nothing much is still something, isn’t it?” asked Maglor, taking Elros’s hands in his and rubbing soothing circles into his little palms with his thumbs. 

 

“They said I couldn’t go to the class party after parent-teacher conferences.”

 

“Why not?” asked Maglor, confused. 

 

“Because,” replied Elros guiltily, “They asked what treats my amme was making. I told them that she can’t go to the party, so they said I can’t go either.”   

 

Maglor swallowed, heart breaking a little bit more. “Did you try explaining to them—“ 

 

“Yes, I’m not stupid, okay?” shouted Elros, words angrily tumbling out in quick bursts now. “I told them mom and dad were dead. I told them you and Uncle Maedhros would probably come instead, but they said that if I went, everyone with real parents would just end up feeling sorry for me. It’s a dumb party anyway, we don’t even have costumes. Besides, they said only moms can bake snacks and, well, you really can’t cook.” _Ouch_. _True_ , _but_ _ouch_.

 

Sometime during his speech Elros had leaned closer to him, hiding the angry tears trailing down his cheeks.  In a matter of moments, the consternation morphed into a white-hot rage pooling in Maglor’s chest, threatening to choke him. Hands shaking, Maglor reached up and gently stroked Elros’s hair while he took two calming breaths. They didn’t help.

 

When Maglor rounded on the head master, a fire blazed in his eyes that would erase any doubt as to exactly who his father was. Gone was the apologetic twenty-something playing at parenthood; he was Maglor Feanorian and he would stand by while his son was treated so.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded angrily, accusing gaze darting between the parents of the two children and the head master.

 

“Well obviously we will ask these boys to apologize, but Elros needs to understand that violence isn’t the answer,” replied the head master dismissively. “They are young, and I am sure they just don’t know how to react when they learned Elros doesn’t have any parents.”

 

“I’m his parent,” snapped Maglor.

 

The head master flinched at the venom in his voice. “Excuse me?” he stuttered.

 

“I’m his parent,” Maglor repeated, voice trembling. “Yes, Elwing and Earendil should be here, but that is not what life had in store and there is nothing I can do to fix it. That is not the problem here. The problem is that these children haven’t been taught how to treat others with kindness and accept that some people are different from them.”

 

At hearing his parenting called into question, one of the dads at the far end of the room began to stand up. “Now, I think you might be overacting,”

 

“And I think you should teach your kid not to be a little asshole,” snapped Maglor. “We are done here,” he announced, turning back to the head master. “I am looking forward to parent teacher conferences. I’ll make sure I bring this up with the boys’ teacher sense you seem too busy to actually address the problems happening in your school. Come on Elros, we are going to go get ice cream.”

 

“Now wait,” interjected the head master, trying to regain some control over the conference, “we still need to address Elros’s actions today. Besides, students are only excused with for a medical absence.”

 

“Fine, we are going to the hospital. And don’t worry, Elros and I will talk about the importance of standing up for yourself,” Maglor added with a false smile.

 

The head master did not seem pleased with this response, but Maglor didn’t wait around to hear his thoughts. Placing an arm around Elros, the two strode out of the office together.

 

*** 

 

Elrond appeared a few moments later toting a neat stack of books and homework. If he was at all perturbed to find that the “emergency” for calling him out of class came in the form of a tired aspiring musician and a bedraggled playground boxing champion, he only let it show briefly. 

 

With arm was draped around Elros, Maglor beckoned to Elrond with the free hand. “Come on, munchkin-number-two. We are going to the doctor’s.” 

 

“By doctor’s, he means ice cream,” added Elros smugly. 

 

Shifting the books to one arm, Elrond took Maglor’s hand and let himself be led to the parking lot while his twin merrily swung the elder elf’s other hand. “You know they are going to want a doctor’s note,” he reminded them in the most reasonable tone the six-year-old could muster. 

 

“Then it is a good thing my brother is dating a doctor,” replied Maglor with a wink. 

 

“Physical therapist,” Elrond corrected, “and I am not sure if he counts in this situation.” 

 

“He does too count. And he can cook. That’s important,” argued Elros. 

 

Elrond shrugged. His brother and foster-father both looked happy, and he was of the opinion that those two needed to be happy more often. 


End file.
